


A Christmas Wager

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas Smut, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Relationship, M/M, Mystrade Holiday 2018, Mystrade Prompt Challenge, Office Sex, Soft Smut Sunday, don't mess with Mycroft's suit, losing a bet, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 12:32:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16810693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: A little friendly wager on pop culture leads to some smutty times for Mycroft and Greg. Oh it's Christmas!





	A Christmas Wager

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt challenge
> 
> Dialogue: “You are utterly impossible”
> 
> Circumstances: somewhere well-known
> 
> Mention: handcuffs and a table or desk

“Oi! Donovan how much was raised last year?” Greg called out from his office at New Scotland Yard.

“Near about £19,000.” She called back as she headed to the conference room.

Mycroft sighed and pulled out his checkbook. “You really didn’t need to shout.”

Greg merely grinned. “Not often, I win a bet against Mycroft Holmes.”

“Yes, well, you knew I’d donate to the [Christmas Tree Appeal](http://news.met.police.uk/news/met-launches-2018-christmas-tree-appeal-331192) regardless.”

“But doing it this way is better.”

Mycroft tore the check out and held it up between two fingers. Greg jumped up from his desk and snatched the check on his way out the door. “It’s a record breaking year!” he crowed.

Mycroft tucked his checkbook away and stood. He had shrugged on his coat, when Greg came skipping back in.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, I thought.”

“Oh, no. There’s still the other half of the bet to fulfill.” Greg went around to his desk.

“Now?”

“No time like the present.”

“Here?”

Greg took his handcuffs out of his desk drawer and sat them on his desk. “Do I have to detain you?” The look he gave Mycroft was all fire and business. It made the other man shiver in his coat.

Mycroft smirked. “You are utterly impossible.” He shut the door and shucked his overcoat.

Greg moved into Mycroft’s space and gently nipped his lover’s bottom lip. “Impossible to resist?”

“Utterly.” Mycroft lips claimed the soft mouth that teased him dragging a groan from the man wrapped in his arms.

“Shhh dear. The others will hear.”

“No, they went down the hall to the party.” Greg’s hands slid under Mycroft’s jacket stroking down his back and caressing his arse. “We’re good.”

“Oh, please, don’t be good.” Mycroft tilted his head to kiss along Greg’s jaw and down his neck.

“Fuuuckkk…” Greg groaned again as Mycroft sucked softly at the skin just at the edge of Greg’s shirt collar. He pushed off Mycroft’s jacket as his partner tugged Greg’s shirt out from his trousers.

Mycroft sighed as he slid his hands over Greg’s abdomen and chest. He tweaked Greg’s nipples eliciting another moan.

Greg yanked at the buttons of Mycroft’s waistcoat, but found his hands pushed away.

“Mm-mm.” Mycroft hummed and he pulled away. “Turn around,” he growled.

Greg’s eyes sparkled. “Oh is it going to be like that?” He unbuckled his belt and pulled a small bottle of lube from his pocket before his trousers hit the floor.

“Cocky bastard.” Mycroft murmured. He stroked Greg’s cock as it strained against the fabric of Greg’s boxers.

Greg hissed in response. Mycroft’s long fingers slid along the waistband and then pushed the pants down. Greg’s cock bobbed and waved. Pre-cum dripped from the tip.

Mycroft plucked the lube from Greg’s hand and nudged the man to turn about. “Keep that pointing away from me. I’m wearing Henry Poole today.”

“Oh God. I love it when you talk posh at me.” Mycroft firmly pressed against Greg. His erection made itself known against Greg’s buttocks.

“Is that so? We may have to fit you for a suit this Christmas.” Mycroft murmured in Greg’s ear before taking the lobe between his teeth.

Hissing, Greg rubbed his arse against Mycroft’s groin. Mycroft yelped and stepped back. Greg chuckled. He stroked his erection and peeked over his shoulder at Mycroft, watching the man carefully lower his trousers and then pants.

“Hmm… Nothing like a sharp, half-dressed man.” Greg murmured. He gazed hungrily at Mycroft’s stiff cock. “Please tell me that’s for me.”

Mycroft uncapped the lube and drizzled a generous amount into his palm. He leveled a severe look at Greg. “I intend all of it for you.”

Greg squealed with delight as Mycroft shoved him down across the desk and proceeded to slick his cleft with the still cool lubricant. Slender fingers gently prodded at Greg’s hole. Mycroft braced himself with a hand on Greg’s back and brought his cock in line.

Greg grunted as Mycroft pushed in, slowly breaching him. A long arm encircled his waist and he felt his cock being stroked, soothing him.

Mycroft gasped. “Perfect… Hot and tight.” He ground a little and Greg pressed back inviting more.

“Fuck me, My.” Greg panted. He clutched at the edge of the desk as Mycroft began to move. “Please… Oh Jesus…”

Mycroft felt Greg clench as he hit that magical spot. Whimpering he stilled for a moment gaining a bit of control. He resumed the pace, sliding in and out and up and down.

Greg thrashed against the desk overwhelmed by the sensations. “Hnnnggg…” Greg held back the shout that tried to burst from his lungs as he came.

Mycroft collapsed on top of Greg, his cock pulsing inside the warm, slick canal. After a moment he placed a tender kiss on Greg’s shoulder. He stood with a groan and shuffled back.

Greg lay spent across his desk. “Fuuucckk…”

“I believe… we did that.” Mycroft replied breathless as he used his handkerchief to wipe up the mess that remained. Dropping his handkerchief in the bin. He quickly dressed as Greg slowly came back to earth.

Greg stood back up and dazedly looked around. Mycroft was fussing with his cuffs. “How are you… never mind.”

Mycroft looked on amused as Greg fumbled with getting his clothes back on. “Oh, you have ink on your forehead.” Mycroft licked his thumb and rubbed at the spot.

“I don’t know if I’ll survive eight more times like that.” Greg murmured.

Mycroft kissed the now clean spot on Greg’s forehead. “Would you like to call it quits then?”

“No, no. It’s one time for every reindeer.” Greg started to lean back against his desk. Mycroft stopped him and nodded at the kick panel decorated with sticky come.

“I really don’t believe Rudolph should count.”

“Yeah, well Google says nine and so did everyone you asked.” Greg found some napkins in his desk drawer and wiped down the front of his desk. “Anthea, John, Sally, and the barista at our favourite coffee shop. So you have to pay up.” He binned the napkins.

“If you say so.” Mycroft pulled Greg into a warm embrace.

“This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Christmas Tree Appeal is real if anyone is so inclined to donate. :)
> 
> http://news.met.police.uk/news/met-launches-2018-christmas-tree-appeal-331192


End file.
